


Reset

by kecleon, The_Twister



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Multi, Self-Harm, Suicide, Triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2018-08-23 18:23:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8338018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kecleon/pseuds/kecleon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Twister/pseuds/The_Twister
Summary: No matter what he did, everything would keep reseting. The results may change, but in the end, Seven couldn't fix anything, no matter what he tried. All he could do was stay strong, and hope he'd figure something out.





	1. Yoosung

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something wasn't right. It was like they were in a time loop, or some sort of game.  
> Something that was out of Seven's control.

It hadn’t taken much - a quick slice and everything slipped out, spilling into the bathroom sink like a leaky faucet. All of his bottled-up feelings had lead him to this; this out-of-control feeling. He may be a hero - the hero, but even heroes can only take so much.

He grimaced at the welcome pain from a knife he had found misplaced; probably by Vanderwood. Seven briefly tried to remember who used to own it. He was sure it had been given to him as a gift but he couldn’t remember clearly. It was all a blur; all jumbled together.

It was unfortunate, but he was getting used to the everyday blur.

He let his blood drip into the sink. Sin by sin, drop by drop. He couldn't be a hero for them if he was like this. Who would take him like this?

Nobody in their right mind would. Nobody who knew him well - which is why no one did.

He sighed and pushed his glasses up, then pulled his sleeves down to cover up the angry cuts, which covered his wrists. He rubbed the area as it stung and walked out of his bathroom, the messiness of his house greeting him. It was always messy. He was always alone. Would anything ever change? He sighed again as he sat down, and glanced over at the CCTV feed.

Seven watched the newest member, MC, walk down the hallway. A small smile formed on Seven’s lips as he watched MC staring intently at their phone. A sudden ding startled him, his phone buzzing to indicate a new chat room was up.

MC: Are you up, Seven? Just wanted to talk.

\- 707 has entered the chat room -

707: Ah! I possibly am.

707: Or I could be sleeping chatting.

He sent a winking emoji and waited. Glancing up to the feed, he saw MC laugh. He enjoyed seeing them smile; seeing them laugh. Seeing them happy! Happy. That was something he couldn't be. Something he could never have. Especially not with MC. He could never be happy with them.

Seven doubted he could be happy with anybody.

Seven glanced back to his phone, chewing on his lip in worry as he glanced over the newest message.

MC: Haha, well I just wanted to talk. Get things off my mind.

Seven stared at the message and looked up to see MC chewing on their nails. Seven absentmindedly wondered if MC hoped that he could see their distress - their obvious anxiety. It made him upset. Upset because he knew something was wrong, but he was the wrong person to go to for advice, and would likely worsen the situation. He didn't even have a clear handle on his own problems, so how could he help anyone else?

707: Whatever could be troubling you, my prince?

707: Or princess. Whichever you prefer.

Cheesiness was always his go to when he was nervous, especially when avoiding any difficult conflicts. Act happy. Act happy and they won't know a thing. They won't know what you’re going through; the battle you're fighting.

He glanced at the feed again to see his friend (could they even be considered friends? Acquaintances may be a better word) smiling sadly. His breath caught in his throat. Something was wrong. Seven knew they were dealing with a bomb threat, and that MC must have been silently freaking out nonstop. He also had noticed how they and Yoosung had quite a bond already, but he couldn't help but develop feelings for the kind-hearted individual. He didn't want them to suffer or to hurt themselves. He didn't want MC to be like him.

MC: Never mind. I'd rather not ruin the mood. Did you eat dinner by any chance?

Seven frowned when they brushed away his offer of help, but it wasn't his place to question. It wasn't even his place to worry, but he did anyways. He looked back at the feed to see MC disappear into the bathroom. Seven’s own personal safe haven.

707: Of course! Honey Buddha Chips and my favorite soda~

Seven couldn't see them. He couldn't see what emotions they were expressing. He wanted to be able to see, but he couldn’t.

Having a camera in the bathroom would just be way too creepy.

MC: You really do need to take better care of yourself... I can help, y’know.

Seven froze as he read and reread the message. What was the other implying? There was no way he’s steal them away from Yoosung. He'd be hated, and currently, the R.F.A. was all he had.

707: That won't be necessary. My wonderful maid takes great care of me~

He waited for the message, but none came, causing the redhead to frown. He looked towards the feed and saw that the bathroom door was still closed. Maybe he was taking a dump. That could be why his answer was taking time. He was about to type goodbye and go back to his work when he saw a message.

MC: Well, that's good to know. Goodnight Seven.

\- MC has left the chat room-

Seven stared at the message for a while before glancing up to the feed. Seeing light spilling out from the bathroom door, he felt a little better. The other was okay. He could go back to work.

* * *

He didn't know when but he had fallen asleep, only waking because of a terrible ringing noise. He groaned and clutched his head. Whatever was making the racket was pissing him off.

Seven winced as he blindly reached for his phone, which he presumed was the source of the sound. Once he had managed to press the answer button, a loud voice attacked his eardrums.

"Have you seen MC on?!" Yoosung was speaking fast and Seven frowned.

"They were on earlier this evening." Seven said as he looked at the feed. The feed was exactly the same, except the bathroom door was open.

"They sent me a worrying text earlier, and I saw you talked with them. I'm worried something happened. Can you please make sure they’re okay? I don’t know how to get to the apartment." Yoosung sounded like he was about to cry, and Seven felt an immediate wave of panic set over him.

He swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat. "I'll go check up on them and let you know." He said, quickly finishing the conversation. Seven hurriedly got what he needed, rushing out of his home. He didn't care for his personal safety - he could just hack his way in anyways. He just had to make sure that MC was okay.

It took some time but once he got to Rika's apartment, he pounded on the door as hard as he could. It opened slowly, a tired MC squinting at him.

"What are you doing here Seven?" MC questioned. Seven noticed the dirty streaks on their cheeks. He frowned deeply.

"Yoosung asked me to come check up on you," He said. "He said you sent him a worrying text."

MC laughed bitterly as they opened the door wider, allowing for Seven to step inside. He noticed how MC was wearing a black long sleeve turtleneck.

"You remind me of Jaehee," Seven snickered. MC rolled their eyes as they closed the door. “It’s a compliment, don’t worry.” Seven assured them, receiving a sad laugh.

That wasn’t right. Why wasn’t the other happy? They always were.

Weren’t they?

Seven stared at MC. The familiar forced smile he saw on his own face was on MC’s beautiful face. Those sad lines. Tears gathered at the corners of their eyes as they shook their head.

“S-Seven...” MC’s voice cracked before their whole body was wracked with sobs. Sure, Seven has seen people cry before but MC crying? It broke his heart.

“H-Hey... things will be alright.” His voice betrayed him. He was sure things wouldn't be alright. He embraced MC and held them close. “I'm sorry for the danger you were put in because of me. You never should have said yes to the RFA.” Seven murmured, as MC’s body kept shaking.

“P-Protect me.” Seven heard the other say and he sucked on his bottom lip. “Protect me, please.” It was much clearer this time but Seven couldn't deny it.

“Y-You know I can't, MC. I dragged you into this mess… and you have Yoosung. You two are meant to be. He’s able to help you far more than I ever will be” He forced himself to smile, but was roughly pushed away.

MC stayed quiet for a while, glaring at Seven. When they finally spoke up, they shouted, “Get out! Just get out of here!”

Seven took a step back. Could he really just leave them alone?

“I'm sorry...” Seven muttered, looking at the floor in defeat. Something crashed into the wall beside him, and Seven jumped letting out a yelp. He jerked his head to MC, who had thrown a book. “O-Oi! That could have hurt me!” Seven snapped and MC stalked over to him.

“Get out,” MC hissed, jabbing their index finger towards the door. “Get out now.”

“M-MC… I don’t think -”

A rough shove knocked Seven back, causing him to stumble.

“I said GET OUT!” MC screamed, and Seven hurriedly left, knowing he couldn’t stay there if he was just going to make the situation worse. He heard the door slam behind him and he glanced back to it, burying his hands in the pockets of his jacket. Maybe he could get in some other way?

He knew he had a layout of the apartment at his own place but he didn’t have time to go back. He had to find a way in, just in case. He had to make sure they were safe for Yoosung’s sake.

He began to search for a way in. He knew it was there somewhere; a spot had to be vulnerable. He remembered seeing it in the layout.

He circled the apartment a few times before finally setting his eyes on it. A little cheer for God Seven playing out in his head as he began to break in, making way more noise than necessary, or expected.

Shit.

He heard footsteps, and the next series of events turned into a blur. Everything happened in quick succession, and Seven quickly found himself slumping to the ground.

* * *

Seven woke up with a start and winced. The back of his head was throbbing, and a bump had formed. He was on the floor in Rika’s apartment - MC’s apartment now - but where was MC? They had been nearby, hadn’t they? Seven was sure of it...

“Oh. Shit.”

Seven steadied himself as he stood up, mildly dizzy. He should have yelled out that it was him, not act like a dumbass and sneak into MC’s room. He should have thought that they might have thought he was the hacker, or some other dangerous buffoon.

He bit his lip as he decided to check his phone, wondering if anyone had sent him anything. Yoosung had called him multiple times, probably to ask about MC. He then saw the angry texts from Yoosung from some time later. Seven frowned and checked the chat room.

MC hadn't even indicated that Seven was at the apartment with them, even saying that he hadn’t shown up. No wonder Yoosung had been angry. MC had said that there was no reason to worry, and that they were fine.

Seven snorted. “Fine”, his ass. He knew something was wrong - MC had outright said it. He sighed and pocketed his phone, deciding to search for MC instead of wasting his time.  
He walked into the hallway and searched through the rooms. There was no sign of MC leaving, but also no sign of them being there. Seven increasingly began to worry, and he headed towards the bathroom.

Seven rapped on the door. When there was no reply, he nudged the handle, which opened easily. If MC was in there they didn't care if Seven walked in, so he walked in.  
Immediately he turned around, covering his mouth before he could scream, slamming the door behind him.

Why? Why would they?

Subconsciously, Seven pulled out his phone out and dialed Jumin’s number.

“Seven, what's the matter?” Jumin was calm. Calm and collected, unlike Seven, who was breathing heavily from the scene he just saw. “Seven?” Jumin spoke a little louder, as if he thought Seven couldn’t hear him.

“I-It’s MC.” Seven mumbled, trying to take a deep breath. “Don't tell Yoosung but....” Seven was talking fast, but the businessman listened intently, able to hear what Seven was saying clearly. “MC... MC is dead.” Seven let out a sob and listened for Jumin's response.

“I'll be right over. Tell me the address. I'll bring paramedics with me.” Jumin said, and Seven gave him the address automatically.

He threw his phone to ground once he hung up, grabbing at his hair in frustration. He couldn’t go back in there. Not after what he just saw.

It took a short time before Jumin and the paramedics arrived, Jaehee in tow. Seven let them inside, ignoring Jaehee’s concern. Evidently Jumin hadn't filled her in yet.

Seven stayed behind as they went to check the bathroom. He would had laughed at how out of character Jumin was as he quickly backed out of the bathroom, his eyes wide in horror. The paramedics went in, and Jumin came over to him and Jaehee. As he delivered the news, Seven stood straight, numb, but Jaehee just cried. She was crying her eyes out, and soon Seven joined her.

He had tried to be strong, but failed. Over and over in his head he tried to see how he could've prevented this. Of course there was way. There had to have been. He just wasn't willing to do it then.

It took the paramedics a while to gather MC’s body and to determine their time of death. Seven had gone with Jaehee to Zen’s house, informing him of the news of MC. The singer covered his mouth, tears pricking at his eyes. Before he or Jaehee could say anything, Zen broke down, covering his face with his hands.

This in turn caused Jaehee to cry, and they hugged each other. All Seven could do was stare off into nothing, oblivious to the attempts of comfort from those around him.

This was going to be so much worse for Yoosung.

* * *

The four of them gathered themselves and went to Yoosung's apartment. It was a quiet journey, minus sniffling and Zen or Jaehee’s occasional loud sob. Seven was on the same level of stoic as Jumin, which in any other situation, would have everyone worried.

Once they arrived at Yoosung’s apartment, he almost immediately yanked open the door. “What happened?” He demanded, eyes wide. Jaehee was glanced nervously at everyone, before opening her mouth. Seven put his hand up, interrupting her.

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I couldn't do anything to help them. They... I'm so sorry. I couldn't save them for you.” Seven let the words pour out, his voice flat.

Yoosung stared blankly at Seven. “What… What do you mean?”

Jumin let out a sigh. “Yoosung, MC took their own life.”

“You’re… lying? R-right?”

Seven could tell Yoosung didn’t want to believe them. He didn’t want to listen to them, and as soon as Zen tried to comfort him, Yoosung began crying.

It wasn't true - it couldn't be true. His beloved MC couldn't be dead. He screamed in frustration.

“You’re lying to me! Why would MC do that!?”

Seven winced at the growing scene. Yoosung was having a fit, trashing the apartment and denying everything that Jaehee, Jumin, or Zen said. Every shred of proof. It was just thrown out the window completely by Yoosung. Seven couldn't blame him though.

Seven couldn’t pinpoint his exact emotions. Mostly, he felt numb. He wanted to cry, but couldn't. He also found himself wishing he was dead too, so that at least he’d be with MC.

“W-Why did they leave me alone?” Yoosung wailed, snapping Seven out of his daze. The boy had finally collapsed to his knees, and Zen rushed over, bringing him into his arms to let him cry.

Seven flinched.

This was all his fault.

“I'm sorry.” It went quiet. Seven hadn't meant to say it again but he did. “I'm so sorry,” Seven said louder. “I could have saved them. I could have prevented this but....” Seven said and he was crying, finally. “They wanted...” He was cut off by Yoosung screaming at him.

“IF YOU COULD HAVE SAVED THEM THEN WHY DIDN’T YOU!?” Yoosung yelled and he curled his hands into fists at his side as he stood up. He was furious. Not only at Seven but at himself because he couldn’t be the prince in shining armor for MC. All he could do was sit on the sidelines and watch. Watch his lover become withdrawn and depressed and Yoosung couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

Seven looked down as he heard Yoosung. He knew what he had done wrong. “I’m sorry, Yoosung. I should have done something.” Seven said, putting a hand to his chest. “If you want to, you can hit me for it. I give you permission. I screwed up.” Seven admitted, but Yoosung shook his head.

“I just want MC back... Why won’t they just...” Yoosung let out a sob as he dropped to his knees. “First Rika and now them? What… What did I do wrong!?” Yoosung broke down in front of the four. He couldn’t handle it.

If Seven were to be honest with himself, neither could he.

If only he could go back and fix everything.

* * *

Seven woke up in a cold sweat. He gasped for air, jerking his gaze towards the CCTV feed. MC was coming out of the bathroom, staring at their phone. His phone then dinged with a message.

Had… Had time rewound?

Was this his chance to fix everything?

Could he?

* * *

Things had went differently this time, but the end result was the same. Yoosung hadn't recovered from MC dying and Seven still felt horrible. MC didn't confess their feelings for him this time, but they did say they had been dealing with depression long before coming to the R.F.A. They had told Yoosung, and he was helping them - but he couldn't help them that night.

That had been the worst night yet for MC.

The members of the R.F.A. stood at the funeral. They all stared at the grave in silence, hearts heavy. Yoosung hadn't shown up. He was too stricken with grief, and was practically forced to stay with his mother, just in case he freaked out.

Seven looked up to the sky with a sad expression. _“Please... Give MC another chance. They don’t deserve this....” _Seven silently begged.__

* * *

Later that night Seven logged into the chatroom after taking a brief nap. He was emotionally drained, but unable to fall back asleep. It’s not as if he could have expected much else.

As he read through the chat, Seven couldn’t help but wonder how everyone else felt. They were obviously grieving, but... none of them were talking about it.

Just as he was about to send a message into the chat - thanks to Jaehee for calling him out on his lurking - something caught his eye; something he had definitely not expected to see.

\- MC has entered the chatroom -


	2. Jaehee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There had been a reset, that's all that Seven knew. It had happened before - or had it been a dream? He wasn't sure, but all he knew was that this time, it was Jaehee's turn.

Seven didn’t know what to say - MC was supposed to be dead, yet here they were, chatting with everyone, and no one seemed the wiser. He knew though, he had seen them lying there, bleeding out and -

A shudder ran up Seven’s spine and he pulled his legs up to his chest, staring blankly at the screen. He didn’t understand - what was going on? Why was everyone so carefree? How come Yoosung was being so calm? A person they all knew that had just died was just chatting with them, as if nothing had happened!

His fingers hovered over the keypad as he watched text fly by. He had so many things to say, but nothing was formulating properly in his brain.

MC: Seven, are you alright?

Jaehee Kang: Yes, you've been fairly quiet this whole chat. Are you feeling alright?

Seven chewed on his lip. What was he supposed to say? That he had had a dream where he saw MC’s dead body? That he had seen them bleeding out, laying on the ground?

He shook his head. He couldn’t say that. That’d worry everyone. He refused to let on that he had seen any of that stuff - real or not.

707: I’m fine~

God, how could he continue with his stupid little cheeriness? Seven hated himself in this moment; the whole situation made no sense to him, so he quickly excused himself from the chat as he saw Jaehee starting to discuss something about work - a coffee business for Jumin’s company? Or wanting to partner with one? What did it matter?

Instead of going back to “work”, Seven got himself a can of Ph D. Pepper and plopped down on his couch. Rubbing his cheek he searched through the backlogs, further confusing himself. It seemed as if MC hadn’t died at all - but instead of becoming close with Yoosung, they had gotten rather chummy with Jaehee. Certain chats had changed, and responses were gone or different.

“What in the hell…”

He also saw it was close to the party date. That was odd...

MC had died on the sixth day from when they joined the R.F.A.

Seven shook his head. He didn’t understand what was going on - it couldn’t have been a dream. It didn’t make sense though - how could everything be different but he remembered so much?

Maybe if he tried to sleep some more he’d be able to clear his head, and talk to the other members. Try to figure out what was going on.

They’d probably either call him crazy, or chalk it up to a lack of sleep.

Whatever.

Closing his eyes, Seven grunted. Sleep wasn’t an option, no matter how much he wished he could sleep his confusion off. He had multiple matters to attend to, and needed to stop delaying them.

So off to work he went, hoping to distract himself.

* * *

Seven shifted his gaze from the computer to the wall clock.

3:45am.

_“Shit.”_

The hacker hadn’t gotten any work done. He hadn’t even felt the time pass. Had he really just sat there, replaying that damned scene again and again?

Seven yanked off his glasses, rubbing his palms into his eyes.

He decided to check the RFA chatroom, and seeing that Yoosung and Jaehee were still up he entered.

\--707 has entered the chatroom--

707: Wassup peeps?

Yoosung★: Lol hi Seven!

Jaehee Kang: Yes, hello.

707: What were you two talking about?

Jaehee Kang: Yoosung was talking about a dream that he had had about MC.

Seven froze as he saw the sentence, and he couldn’t help but tilt his head. What did Yoosung dream about?

707: Are you having sexual dreams about MC now?

Yoosung★: What!? No!!

Jaehee Kang: Seven, please, be mature for once.

707: Lololololol

707: So, what did you dream about Yoosung? MC and you playing LOLOL?

Yoosung★: ... No, nothing like that!!

Yoosung★: It was scary. I was with MC and everything was dark in the dream. I didn’t understand why because we were happy. But then you came to my house and told me they died.

Jaehee Kang: Who is “you”?

Yoosung★: Both you and Seven. I think Jumin and Zen were there too.

Seven stared at the text for a while and frowned. Yoosung couldn’t have remembered what happened in the other timeline. Right?

He shook his head and went to respond.

707: That’s absurd Yoosung! You’re absurd! Too many video games I think

Yoosung★: I’m not joking around, Seven...

Jaehee Kang: Once again. Seven, please be mature.

Yoosung★: Yeah Seven!

Yoosung★: I’m continuing. You guys told me that they were having a lot more trouble with there depression than normal and I just cried my eyes out. It’s so weird because I don’t think MC has depression. They’re so happy!!

Seven scoffed to how naive Yoosung sounded as he stared at the messages. Should he come clean about MC? Warn Jaehee? He didn’t know. That was too much for someone like him - not to mention everyone would likely just tell him to stop joking around. He rubbed his face as he looked at the chat again.

Jaehee Kang: Don’t judge someone just by how they are online, Yoosung. MC could be dealing with other things that we don’t know about.

Yoosung★: Do you really think so?

Jaehee Kang: I can’t say I know for certain, but it’s common knowledge that people do hide things that they believe won’t be perceived well.

Yoosung★: I guess...

Yoosung★: But shouldn’t MC confide in us? Or in you, Jaehee?! You’re closest with them!

Jaehee Kang: People don’t always tell everyone everything, Yoosung.

707: lol ya yoosung

707: not everyone needs to know when u have to poop lolol

Yoosung★: Seven!!! >:(

Yoosung★: Whatever, this didn’t matter. I’m gonna go play LOLOL.

\--Yoosung★ has left the chatroom--

707: oops

Jaehee Kang: Seven.

Jaehee Kang: Sometimes I can’t believe you.

\--Jaehee Kang has left the chatroom --

Seven flopped backwards, his emotions a mixture of anger and relief. Nothing he had done would have changed anything. No one would have believed him if he had said MC was depressed or struggling, or that he had seen their corpse before. They would have called him sick; disgusting, probably.

Maybe he had been dreaming. Or maybe Vanderwood had slipped him some drugs, hell if he knew.

Seven decided it didn’t matter.

Or at least he’d pretend it didn’t.

* * *

It was far too early for Seven to be up.

He groaned as he looked at the time - it was almost six in the morning. Why was he up this early again?

Oh, that’s right. It was Yoosung’s fault.

He had woken Seven up, screaming into his ear about that stupid dream he had several years ago, a dream that Seven had done his best to forget.

Of course Yoosung wouldn’t listen to Seven, begging for him to warn Jaehee that MC may be suicidal. Seven had just groaned in response because he was sure she wouldn’t believe either of them.

Seven glanced at the time again, then slapped himself a couple of times to wake up. Might as well try. He grabbed his phone and entered the chatroom, in which Jaehee was already in.

\--707 has entered the chatroom--

Jaehee Kang: You’re up early. Or have you even gone to sleep?

707: Oh Jaehee...! I need to speak with you.

707: Also I woke up after a nap.

\--Yoosung★ has entered the chatroom--

Yoosung★: JAHEE!

Jaehee Kang: Jaehee*

707: We need to talk about MC’s depression.

Jaehee Kang: I know about their depression. They told me about it when we got into a relationship.

Seven paused his typing as he had forgotten that the two were now in a relationship. Maybe they should stop?

Yoosung★: BUT CM WANTS to die!1 Sve mthe.

Jaehee Kang: Uh... What?

Seven groaned as he shook his head.

707: We believe MC is suicidal.

Jaehee Kang: The two of us have discussed this before. If I believed MC was in danger of harming themselves, I wouldn’t be going to work.

Jaehee Kang: I’m sorry but I have to leave and get the cafe ready for the incoming morning rush. Have a nice day, guys.

\--Jaehee Kang has left the chatroom--

Yoosung★: Do yuo think she believed su?

707: Don’t know. Possibly? I’m going back to sleep. Bye Yoosung.

\--707 has left the chatroom--

Seven sighed and laid back down on his bed. He draped his arms over his eyes as he wondered if Jaehee believed them. She probably didn’t, as she was not only busy, but he and Yoosung hadn’t been very efficient. He laid on his side and stared at the wall. Unsure if he should be angry with himself or someone else because he wouldn’t be able to save MC again, if he and Yoosung's beliefs were correct. He squeezed his eyes shut. He just wanted this to end, but not with MC’s death. Not this time.

* * *

Jaehee was walking home from the cafe she shared with MC, a small smile planted on her lips. The day had went well, as there had been quite a lot of sales, leaving Jaehee happy. She also couldn’t wait to see MC, so she had bought some snacks and coffee for them to enjoy, with a plan to watch one of Zen’s musicals together.

MC had taken the day off for personal reasons, which Jaehee had agreed was a good idea. Their mental health was far more important than work, and she wanted them to get better. Jaehee knew it would take time, and she was doing all she could to support MC. She didn’t want them to feel alone or abandoned, as she loved them more than anything else - whether it be coffee or Zen’s musicals. Supporting them was her number one priority. She’d listen to them talk for hours, and do her best to understand them.

As Jaehee walked she planned out the night, smiling wider as she thought of MC cuddled up to her, whispering sweet nothings in her ear.

Almost skipping up to the door, Jaehee unlocked the apartment and strolled in, struggling to keep her happiness contained.

“I’m home, MC!” She called out, heading towards the kitchen.

As she began putting things away, Jaehee noticed MC had yet to welcome her back. Were they asleep?

“MC!” Jaehee called out again, as she put a bag of coffee and snacks onto the table. She’d have to make the coffee once she found MC. “I’m home!” She called out again.

No response.

Her brows furrowed in worry as she went to walk about their apartment. As she checked the bathroom, a sense of paranoia overcame her, and she remembered what Yoosung had described to her several days ago. He had mentioned that he feared MC was depressed, suicidal even. That couldn’t be the case here, MC would never…

Audibly she released a breath that she hadn’t realized she was holding in.

Jaehee’s worry didn’t stop as she searched the apartment, especially as MC had yet to reveal themselves.

As she wandered to their bedroom, Jaehee thought back to Yoosung’s warning. There was no way MC would have done anything. They always shared their feelings with each other, no matter what the reason. MC knew that Jaehee would always be there to support them, and would never hurt themselves.

Right?

Jaehee swallowed the lump in her throat. She reached for the doorknob, but pulled away as her fingers brushed it. Holding a fist to her chest, Jaehee stared at the door.

Something was off.

Very off.

MC’s shoes were still by the front door, so unless they were asleep…

Shaking her head, Jaehee opened the door.

“MC, are you -”

Everything around Jaehee froze, her gaze forcibly stuck on the sight in front of her.

MC was hanging from one of rafters above the bed, their eyes were drained of life. Their body hung there; limp and obsolete.

Jaehee covered her mouth with her hand as she gripped the doorknob, praying she wouldn’t collapse. Tears spilled out from the corner of her eyes as she let out a soft sob. The realization of everything in front of her hit her like a pile of paperwork hitting the desk when she had been working for Jumin.

She shook her head, inhaling quickly and deeply. This wasn’t real. It had to be a dream, just a really bad dream that she’d wake up from soon.

MC was fine, in bed with her, cuddling her.

Jaehee pinched herself and squeezed her eyes shut as she slunk to the floor. She didn’t want to see what was in front of her.

Who could she call in a situation like this? Who could help her?

She called no one, instead opening the messenger app and going into the chatroom, typing quickly. Her hands shook, but she managed to get her message clear.

Someone will see her pleas for help. They had to.

\--Jaehee Kang has entered the chatroom--

Jaehee Kang: Someone help

Jaehee Kang: I rea;lly need it

Jaehee Kang: Someone resopnd please

Jaehee Kang: Please help

She was trying to calm herself as she waited for a reply. All she could think about MC, and how she should call an ambulance. It was hard to breathe though, let alone talk.

Gripping her phone tightly, Jaehee pulled herself together enough to make away from the bedroom, her knees quaking. She stumbled, her head smacking into the wall and she fell.

Hissing in pain, Jaehee squinted at her phone as she gingerly touched the sore spot. Several messages were flashing across her screen.

Jumin Han: What is the matter?

Zen: What’s the matter, Jaehee? We’ve been trying to ask you but you haven’t been responding...

Heart pounding and new pain forgotten, Jaehee’s fingers flew across her screen.

Jaehee Kang: Its MC. Theyre

She couldn’t force herself to type the rest.

Zen: What happened with MC? Is everything alright? Jaehee, please respond.

Jumin Han: Yes, responding to us would be the best course of action currently.

Jaehee stared at the messages but couldn’t type - her body was trembling again, close to bursting into tears once more.

Zen: Jaehee? Answer us!

Jaehee Kang: Theyre dead

She didn’t know how she had managed to type that, nor how she had managed to hit send. There was a pause, and then flurry of text went flashing across the screen, mainly of Zen not believing her.

Zen: MC can’t be dead!

Zen: They were happy with you!

Zen: If MC was dead then why would you not call an ambulance? Why go into the chatroom?

Jumin Han: Zen, calm down. Jaehee is shocked. Just as shocked as you are. I’m sure she isn’t thinking straight. She probably came into the chatroom because this is the safest place for her currently.

Zen: How can you be calm in a situation like this?!

Jumin Han: What will panicking get us? Nothing. Now, Jaehee, please tell me your address and I’ll call the paramedics to go there. I’ll have someone drive me to go aid you.

Zen: Pick me up too!!!

Jumin Han: What benefit would you provide? She’d have me there.

Zen: You’re too stoic for this sort of thing! I’ll console Jaehee.

Jaehee Kang: Please hurry

Jaehee gathered herself and went outside, losing herself to her thoughts. The paramedics quickly arrived and the forsaken woman did her best to explain the situation, only to be left - monitored, of course - as they left to get the body.

Jaehee’s thoughts were being bombarded with MC’s previous conversations about their depression.

She had thought that things were going fine with them. There wasn’t really any obvious reason for MC to feel bad... or was there? She tried to think back to what event could have possibly triggered MC’s depression, but couldn’t think of anything.

“Jaehee! Are you okay?”

Jaehee glanced up, a sigh escaping her trembling lips. Zen and Jumin were hurrying towards her, almost at a run.

Jaehee tried to laugh, but it just formed into a sob as she covered her face with her hands. She wasn’t okay, and she’d never be okay.

MC was dead.

If only she had done something. Asked the right questions, given the right support.

Something.

Jumin frowned to the sight in front of him. He glanced inside of the house and saw people walking around or watching them before he turned back to Jaehee. He couldn’t even comfort her and he felt - no, knew - that Zen was right. He sighed and checked the time. “How long have the paramedics been in there for?” Jumin asked, ignoring the glare from Zen.

“A-A good hour.” Jaehee muttered and swallowed. She then stood up as tears continued to fall down her cheeks. “It feels like it’s been forever.” Jaehee smiled sadly, and Zen couldn’t help but pull her into a hug.

* * *

It had felt like a long time since MC had died, even though it had only been a few months. Jaehee had closed up the cafe, and had begun to avoid going past where it used to be, as it was a constant reminder of her deceased lover.

A restaurant had replaced the cafe, which was a slight relief to Jaehee, who had worried it would become another cafe. Even so it still didn’t feel right. It should have just been left empty.

Empty just like MC had left her.

Jaehee pushed her bedroom door open, collapsing on her bed. Everyday felt too long, as if two days had been crammed into one. It had been like this ever since MC died. Jumin, Zen, Yoosung, Seven… they had all tried to cheer her up, but alas, nothing worked for long. It was easier to focus on the good things when she wasn’t alone, but her home always was very empty.

“MC…”

Jaehee closed her eyes, not bothering to change into pajamas. Sometimes sleep would help her escape how bad she felt.

So to sleep she went.

* * *

Bzzt!

Jaehee’s eyes fluttered open. Sunlight peeked through her window, illuminating her bedroom walls.

Bzzt! Bzzt!

She was still in her work clothes - once again, too exhausted to change.

Bzzt!

Huffing, Jaehee grabbed her phone and checked on whatever was so important that it was obnoxiously spamming her phone.

Zen: Shut up Jumin!

Jumin: I’m not even talking to you. I’m typing.

MC: Jumin, I think you should be nicer to Zen. He’s allergic to cats, you know.

Jaehee sighed, putting her phone to the side, moving to get up and ready for work.

Another day, another fight between Zen and Jumin.

* * *

Seven was staring at his phone.

MC was back.

Again.

Seven screamed.


	3. Zen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven still doesn't understand what's happening, but he knows that what's about to happen to Zen is undesirable.

It was happening once again. How many times had it been now? Four? Five? Ten? Seven wasn't keeping count anymore. It was already too much for him having to deal with time rewinding, which screwed up his own personal clock, let alone MC dying and hooking up with another member of the R.F.A. every other week.

Okay, maybe he was exaggerating, but Seven still had no idea how this was all happening, and it was driving him mad.

Was he stuck in some sort of time loop? Was there something that he was doing that kept changing the outcomes? If so, he was missing something, because as it had been so far, Seven would wake up after some point in time after MC kills themself, check the chat, and find MC having developed a relationship with someone new.

It was getting to be beyond confusing.

Very frustrating, too.

Right now, MC was in the chat room, talking to Zen, their current love interest, and Yoosung, who seemed to be talking a leaf out of Jaehee’s book.

Yoosung★: I don’t think that’s a safe idea, Zen… You’ve never ridden with someone else

Zen: C’mon Yoosung, lighten up. I’ve ridden with other people before. It’s not like we’re doing anything actually dangerous.

MC: It'll be fun! You don’t have to worry about us :)

Yoosung★: …

MC: We’ll message you when we get back! To prove everything went well :P

Yoosung★: You guys promise?

Zen: If it makes you stop acting like a worried mother, then yes. We promise. Right MC?

MC: Yup! :)

Yoosung★: :/

Yoosung★: Alright

MC: :D

MC: I’m gonna go get ready, so I’ll talk to you soon! Stay safe Yoosung :P

Yoosung★: I should be saying that to you !!

\--MC has left the chatroom--

Zen: Don’t worry too much. We’ll be fine.Talk to you later, Yoosung!

\--Zen has left the chatroom--

Seven frowned. Was Zen and MC going out for motorcycle ride?

For some reason, a shiver ran down Seven’s spine. This was a bad idea, no matter how safe a driver Zen was.

\--707 has entered the chatroom--

707: Wassup Yoosung? Playing Jaehee?

Yoosung★: Are you always creeping the chat?

707: Maybe lolololol

Yoosung★: Dont you have a bad feeling about this?

Yoosung★: I just feel like them going riding is gonna end badly

Yoosung★: :/

Yoosung★: Maybe I’ve overthinking this

707: Nah

707: youre not the only one

707: but i just might not trsut zens driving lolololol

707: not as bad as jumin tho

Yoosung★: :///

Yoosung★: Do you ever take ANYTHING seriously, Seven?

Ouch.

He wouldn’t admit it, but sometimes Yoosung’s disapproval of him hurt more than anyone else's. Probably because he was a dorky kid and all, but still.

707: hey

707: i agree with you okay?

707: thinks have felt really off lately

Yoosung★: Yeah…

Yoosung★: I gotta go though

Yoosung★: If you can, can you try and talk Zen out of this? Or hack into his motorbike and break it ?

707: lolololol will try

Yoosung★: Thanks 707

\--Yoosung★ has left the chatroom--

Seven immediately tried to message Zen.

No answer.

He was probably getting ready to go out, or just ignoring his phone.

Either way, Seven left him a short message.

707: hey zen, i saw your messages with yoosung, and i also have a bad feeling about you going out with MC. i know you’re probably excited, but please reconsider. i just… i dont think it’s going to end well.

707: nothing seems to end well anymore

707: please answer me when you see this. i just want you both to be safe

He never got an answer.

* * *

Bzzt!

Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt!

Seven was jolted out of his sleep by his phone vibrating. He groggily glanced at the sender.

Zen.

Oh no.

Zen: SSEVEN PLEAS Come to the hospital i need you r help

Zen: i killed mc

Seven fell back onto the couch where he had fallen asleep, feeling empty.

Why does this keep happening?

Why couldn't he ever stop it?

* * *

Everyone had told him it had been a bad idea. Even he knew it had been a bad idea, and that they should have just stayed home and watched a movie or something.

Not been reckless.

Of course, if had been more focused on the road instead of where MC’s hands were, he likely wouldn’t have swerved.

MC’s arms around his waist had distracted him. They had let their hands slip lower to rest in his lap, and he had gotten flustered and had let his indecent thoughts carry him away, out of focus.

Zen thought back to the morning, remembering the surprised look on MC’s face when he had suggested that they go for a ride together. They had been unsure and reminded him that he had to be more careful with them on the back. He had promised them he would be careful, but they still seemed fearful, which in hindsight, they had every right to be. He was careless, and that had costed him a lot more than he had bargained for.

He rubbed his hands over his face, staring at the receptionist. He wasn’t sure of the time or the date - everything was a blur. All Zen knew was that MC was in surgery, in critical condition, and that he had merely gotten a few bad scrapes and a sprained ankle. All he wanted was for MC to be okay, for the doctor to come out and say everything was going to be okay.

Somehow, Zen knew that nothing was going to be okay after today.

Zen sat in silence, his eyes closed as he rested. He didn’t have much energy, but didn’t want to lay in a hospital bed.

“Zen, is it?”

Eyes opening, Zen blinked. A nurse stood in front of him.

Immediately he knew he was about to receive bad news.

“Y-Yeah…” Zen mumbled, standing up. A sharp pain shot through his ankle, and he sat back down - it hurt too much to deal with right now.

“I recommend staying seated - your ankle will thank you,” the nurse said, a sad smile crossing her face. “The doctor will be out in a moment. He wants to speak to you.”

Zen nodded, his heart starting to race.

They were dead.

He just knew it.

The nurse walked away, and Zen’s hand shook as he sent some gibberish to Seven, who would hopefully understand what was being said.

Seven was good at that kind of stuff.

“Ah, Zen…” The doctor stood in front of the ashen faced male, with a defeated look spread across his face.

MC was dead.

“A-Are they…” Zen started, faltering almost immediately.

“I’m sorry. MC didn’t make it.”

Everything seemed to become white noise after the doctor said those words.

_“MC didn’t make it. MC didn’t make it. MC didn’t make it. MC didn’t make it.”_

It just kept repeating in his head.

What had he done?

He had just accidentally murdered his fiancee.

This all had to be an elaborate joke. Some sick asshole playing with his head.

“Y-You’re… You can’t be…”

The doctor sighed. “Zen, I’m sorry. There was nothing we could do…”

It had been a head-on collision with a car from the other lane. Zen has swerved accidentally, and the both of them had tried to hold onto the vehicle, but the power of the collision sent both of them flying. Granted Zen’s body weight, it made it so he was only thrown a short distance, only sustained a sprained ankle and numerous scrapes and bruises.

MC’s small stature made it so they really did fly. They were practically knocked into coma on impact, only to die from blood loss when they got to the hospital. A surgery was too late for them.

He should have been the one to die.

It was his fault.

He always fucked up.

* * *

“Yo.”

Zen bolted awake, slightly jumping when he saw a familiar redhead standing in front of him.

“I’m here to take you home.” Seven murmured.

Zen frowned, visibly confused. “Did... Did I text you?”

Nodding, Seven said, “You got into the chat earlier… You just spoke pure gibberish, so, uh, n one really understood. You mentioned a hospital, so I traced your location... I’m sorry.” Seven said as he looked at Zen, who swallowed nervously. “Are you sure you crashed?” Seven asked sternly.

Zen gave him a weird look. How could he not remember that?

“Yes, I’m sure.” Zen licked his dry lips and quickly glanced down, then back up to Seven. “Am I sure?” Zen asked. “I… I’m almost sure.”

Seven smiled sadly at Zen, and went to sat next to the dazed man. “Did MC say anything weird to you before you left?” Seven asked quietly, a mixture of concern and something else that Zen couldn’t read in his voice.

Zen blinked.

“Only to be careful.” he stated, “Though they probably said more after that, but I wasn’t paying attention. I was just excited by the fact they finally agreed to ride with me.” Zen mumbled and he shook his head. “I-I need to go home Seven.” Zen mumbled. “Please.”

Seven frowned, but nodded. “That’s why I’m here.”

* * *

The drive to Zen’s house was silent. Neither of the two knew what to say, but both understood what the other was feeling.

Grief.

Confusion.

A mixture of every bad emotion you could come up with.

* * *

Once at Zen’s, Seven helped guide him into his house. As he plopped down onto his couch, a question popped into his mind.

“Are the police going to talk to me?”

Seven shrugged. “I was told either later tonight they’ll come by, or tomorrow. Did you want me to hang around until they leave?”

Zen nodded tiredly. “Just until they leave. Then I wanna sleep.”

Seven nodded, and the two waited until there was a knock at the door. Zen had dozed in and out of consciousness up until that point, and as soon as he saw the first police officer he felt bile rise up in his throat.

He was going to be arrested.

Or so he thought.

The police asked question after question, with Seven butting in sometimes to tell them to shut up and that Zen was still a bit out of it. He knew he wasn’t in trouble though.  
Actually, the crash hadn’t been his fault at all, according to the police.

He hadn’t swerved because he was distracted by MC, he had swerved because he was trying to save MC, who had tried to jump into oncoming traffic.

Zen didn’t know what to say, or what to do.

MC had killed themself.

He broke down, sobs wracking his body as realization hit him. He hadn’t known that MC was suicidal, let alone depressed. How could he have missed that? How could he have not tuned into their pain?

He had failed them.

* * *

Once the police left, and Zen had managed to talk Seven into leaving - the guy could be such a stubborn little shit - he collapsed onto the couch, his face sore from crying. His whole body was sore, but his eyes felt like they were on fire.

He didn’t to think of this anymore.

He didn’t want to think or feel.

So he did what he usually did when things were really bad.

He went to his fridge, and slammed back as much beer as he could. One, two, three, four - he lost count. He didn’t care. He had nothing to care for anymore. He had just lost the most important person in his life.

He had nothing left to lose.

So he drank, and drank, and drank, until he blacked out.

* * *

Zen awoke the next morning with a piercing headache. This had to be the worst hangover he had ever had, but he couldn’t remember for the life of him why he had drank so much.

Maybe he had just felt like it?

He checked his phone and as soon as he saw the R.F.A chat being flooded with banter between Jumin and Seven, with MC defending Jumin, he let his phone fall to the floor. Rolling over, shoving his face against his couch pillows, Zen let sleep take him over. Hopefully he’d feel better once he slept off his headache.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates might be shorter from here on, but this fic hopefully won't take as long to update as before. (We've both fallen out of the fandom, so uh...)
> 
> Thanks for reading + comments + kudos! It means a lot to us :^)


	4. Jumin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jumin thought that MC was alright, or at least was going to be.
> 
> He didn't bargain for what he received. 
> 
> Then again, neither did Seven.

Jumin woke up in a cold sweat, shivering as chills ran down his spine. It was the same recurring dream that he had been having for over a week now. The events weren’t always the same, but the premise of the nightmare was. It was always different ways of his precious MC dying, whether by suicide or accident. One nightmare involved MC laying limply in a bathtub, blood staining the porcelain and soaking the water. Another was him coming home to silence, only to find MC hanging by a rope in their bedroom when he seeked them out.

Then it would proceed to bright light, lots of voices surrounding him. There had been a motorcycle accident involving him and MC? Jumin couldn’t even ride a motorcycle, but it didn't matter - in the dream it had been his fault; he had swerved and gotten the two into a crash, killing MC.

With a small sigh, Jumin turned on his side, staring at MC’s sleeping form. He hadn't the heart to tell them of his nightmares. He didn't want to scare them or cause them panic if they were indeed suicidal. Either way, he wanted to be there to help them before anything could happen, if it were to.

Jumin rubbed his face and slid out of bed, heading towards the bathroom. No use laying around, moping.

He splashed some cold water onto his face, and then checked his phone, popping into the R.F.A. chat room.

\-  Jumin Han entered the chatroom -

Jumin Han: Anyone awake?

707: I could be. Depends on what you need.

Jumin pulled a face. Seven could be such a child.

Unfortunately, in this situation Seven seemed like the safest person to go to.

Jumin Han: I want to talk about MC.

Jumin Han: I believe they might be suicidal.

707: Might is a nice way to put defiantly.

707: Get them help, like therapy or something. Just look into stuff and then offer it to them, idk

Jumin stared at his screen, his frown deepening. Was Seven suggesting to do things behind MC’s back before talking to them?

Jumin Han: How will doing things behind their back help? Wouldn't that just cause strain on our relationship?

Jumin Han: Is there any other way to go about it?

707: There could be? I don’t know

707: I really  don’t think you’ll be able to do anything about them

Jumin furrowed his brows. Seven was acting so cryptic and childish, especially more so as of late. He just wanted to know how he could help MC through their problems, not attempt to read into Seven’s ridiculous jargon.

Jumin Han: Anything will help at this point.

707: then I suggest therapy

707: though with my experience with this whole MC thing

707: nothing will help them

Jumin stared at his phone as he processed what Seven said. What whole MC thing? Jumin had barely told him about it till right now. Was there something he was missing; something Seven knew about that he didn’t?

Jumin Han: What do you mean?

* * *

Seven was just haphazardly replying to Jumin’s messages - at this point, Seven didn’t really care what happened. He had been through so many of these time loops, thrown into so many different timelines that he had basically given up on the idea of MC ever surviving. He had been spending this timeline just monitoring how MC responded to everyone, and how they acted. Up until today all had seemed fine, that just maybe MC wouldn’t do anything rash.

He knew to be wary, having learned everything the hard way, over and over. Seven had begun to ease when he saw how well MC and Jumin were doing. Eased enough that he thought that maybe he wouldn’t have to worry. That Jumin and MC would live their happy little lives till a proper ending. A ending where MC wouldn’t kill themselves, and Seven wouldn’t be stuck in a godforsaken time loop any longer.

Unfortunately his hopes had been dashed.

As soon as Jumin had said “I’m worried about MC”, Seven had felt the irresistible urge punch a mirror.

So he did.

Now, with bloody knuckles and sitting in a mess of glass, the redhead was inhaling sharp breaths, glaring angrily at his phone.

Why couldn’t _he_ just die?

Why did he have to relive this hell, no matter what he did?

Taking a deep breath, Seven shakily stood up. His hand hurt. Shards of glass were embedded in his knuckles, and it looked like he had unconsciously scraped his wrists along some glass, too.

Too bad it wasn’t bad enough to kill him from blood loss.

* * *

Jumin scowled at his phone, anxiously awaiting Seven’s reply. It had been nearly 20 minutes since he had sent a message, and Jumin was starting to wonder if Seven was just playing some sick joke.

Jumin Han: Seven, answer me. What did you mean?

707: never mind

707: it doesnt matter

Jumin Han: I believe it does.

707: ….

707: ever have deja vu

707: but so many times that you start to think that somewhere you got caught in a loop and you cant escape it

Jumin squinted.

Was Seven implying that he had dealt with this before?

Jumin Han: I don't quite understand what you mean, Seven. Nor do I know if you're being serious.

707: it's inevitable, Jumin

707: i cant stop this

707: im starting to think it's me and not them

707: please take care of them

\-  707 has left the chatroom -

Jumin shuddered involuntarily. Something was very off with Seven - yes, he tended to be quite impish but this was far beyond having a jokey tone. A part of him wanted to go to Seven, to make sure that _he_ was alright. He had to take care of MC, yes, but Seven was acting odd and Jumin wanted to get to the bottom of it.

* * *

Seven pressed his body up against the wall, watching as droplets of blood formed along his wrist.

He was hiding in the bathroom with the light off, hoping to whatever God that was out there that Vanderwood wouldn't knock.

Seven didn't know what to do anymore, so he had crawled back to how he originally dealt with his problems.

Everyone had their unhealthy ways of dealing with problems. Zen? Alcohol. Yoosung? LOLOL. Jaehee? Overworks. Jumin? Elizabeth.

MC?

Killing themselves, evidently.

Pinching the skin on his wrist, Seven wondered to himself. _Does MC know what they're doing? Do they enjoy this, if so?_

Maybe it should be Seven’s turn.

Maybe he should be the one to kill himself.

If he did, would this loop end? Would he have a funeral and finally be free of this?

Or would he wake up in his bed, sweaty and exhausted after having a nightmare, only to realize he's still living one?

* * *

Jumin sighed as he set his cup of coffee down, once again going over what he wanted to say inside his head. He knew what he needed to say, and how to say it - he just wasn’t sure of how MC may react. It was going to be a difficult conversation, especially since he was going off the basis of Seven.

“Jumin?”

MC’s voice was soft and sleepy, their expression placid as they sat across from their lover.

“Hello darling, how did you sleep?” Jumin asked, smiling at them.

“Oh, I slept well. Did you? I noticed you left the bed rather early…”

“Ah, I was just restless so I got up. I didn't want to wake you with all my tossing and turning.”

MC nodded, yawning as they rubbed some sleep from their eye. Jumin shifted uncomfortably, now that this was the time to ask.

“Also, MC… I’ve recently noticed how you’ve seemed more down than normal, and reserved. Is there anything that you wanted to talk about?

The corner of their mouth twitched downwards, and it almost seemed as the air around the couple became tense as soon as Jumin had closed his mouth.

MC stayed quiet, staring at Jumin with a hint of anger in their eyes. Jumin went to move his hand towards theirs, but they pulled back. “I’ll be fine,” MC said forcefully, avoiding eye contact with Jumin. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”

Jumin felt his heart sink. “MC, I can help. I assure you,” He told them, a hint of desperation in his voice. “I don’t want you to struggle alone.”

“I don’t need help, Jumin. I’m just going through a small bout of depression - I’ll be fine. Promise.” MC assured, forcing a smile.

Jumin frowned but nodded. He couldn’t force MC into doing anything they didn’t want to do, but he wanted to help. “I understand that you don’t want to worry anyone, but what about even just seeing a therapist? That way you wouldn’t have to disclose with any personal to you.”

MC chewed their lip, looking displeased with the suggestion, but eventually they responded with a sigh, saying, “Fine. It’s not a big deal though…”

Jumin extended his hand and wrapped his fingers around theirs. “I just want you to have someone who you can talk to, even if it’s nothing major.”

“I know…”

Squeezing their hand, Jumin smiled. “I’ll look into getting you someone to speak with as soon as possible. If there’s anything else I can do to help, please let me know. I’m here for you no matter what.”

A warm smile crossed MC’s face. “Thank you so much, Jumin.” They gave his hand a loving squeeze. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, MC.”

With that ordeal over, the two went on with their morning, both seeming more cheery than before.

If his nightmares were indeed a warning, then maybe he had a chance of saving MC.

Just maybe.

* * *

It had been almost three months since their conversation, and Jumin thought that MC was doing better. Each week they’d go see a therapist, and it had seemed to be helping. MC seemed more relaxed, more happy - Jumin guessed that having an outlet was helping them much. He had been there for them too, whether as another outlet or just a physical presence, it didn’t matter. All that Jumin cared for was that MC was getting the help they needed.

One morning Jumin had awoken again restless, and decided to make breakfast for both him and MC. He had hoped that over breakfast, they two of them could talk more openly about how MC was doing, and if he could know what the origin of their depression was. MC had been up late the past night, so Jumin understood that they may sleep in a bit, but it was only after several minutes of waiting that Jumin realized he was going to be late for work, so he jotted down a note for MC, explaining the breakfast and hope for conversation later in the day, and left it on the fridge before leaving.

This was the day that he would ultimately regret.

His work day had passed by slowly, drawing out to be probably one of the more irritatingly boring shifts as of yet. Once he was off, he hurriedly went home, hoping that MC would be responsive to him and okay with opening up more.

“MC! Are you home?”

No answer.

Jumin called once again, to no avail. He chalked it up his lover having went for  a walk, or gone to the library.

It was several minutes before he noticed the breakfast, untouched.

He immediately sent MC a text, and then a phone call, and when there was no replies at all, that’s when Jumin began searching their apartment.

Every room seemed empty, as if MC had just gotten up and vanished.

That’s when he heard the sound of dripping, coming from the bathroom.

He rushed to the bathroom, mentally gathering himself. The dripping was most definitely coming from this room, and an intense sense of dread had washed over the businessman.

MC had been getting better.

Whatever Jumin was about to see, it was not going to be MC. It was just going to be a leaky tap.

Pushing the door open, the sight that Jumin saw made his stomach churn.

MC was laying in the bathtub, partially submerged, with blood dripping down their arm, a bottle of pills spilled out onto the floor.

Clamping a hand to his mouth, Jumin inched towards MC, trying to determine if they were alive or not. They looked pale, but he could see their chest moving up and down slowly.

Very slowly.

Turning on his heels, Jumin ran for a phone. He needed an ambulance _now._

* * *

A stretcher rushed past Jumin, with MC laying upon it, pale and unmoving. The hospital was loud, crazed even - it was all very overwhelming. The only good thing was that the paramedics had told Jumin that MC would live; that he had arrived just after they attempted.

Thank God.

Jumin wasn’t allowed to see MC right away, but he was able to sit in the waiting room and hope that the doctor would come out soon and tell him MC was conscious and that no extreme damage had happened. For now, he fiddled with his phone, half-wondering if he should let the R.F.A. know what had happened.

_Seven._

Jumin pulled up Seven’s name in the chat, and quickly typed out a message for the mischievous hacker.

Jumin Han: Seven, I need to ask you something about MC.

Jumin Han: They’re currently in the hospital right now for a suicide attempt. They’ll make it, so don’t worry about that.

707: oh shit

Jumin Han: I feel like they’ve done this before.

707: …?

Jumin Han: We spoke about this several months ago - I was having recurring nightmares about ways MC was trying to kill themselves with. You had mentioned a timeloop, or some sort of  déjà vu.

707: I remember that.

Jumin Han: I had a dream that MC killed themselves with pills, hanging themselves - whatever. It feels like I’m reliving the attempts over and over, but through other people. This loop, or whatever you want to call it, it’s mine to to deal with it face-on.

707: Jumin

707: You sound crazy

707: But I know exactly what you’re getting at

707: I don’t know how to stop it

707: but i think if you can talk to MC after they get out of the hospital or you can see them or whatever, i think you need to bring up your worries

707: i dont know if itll help because they always brush stuff off but if you can  make it really clear that you want to help them get better and that stuff will get better ,  you might be able to stop them from dying

Jumin stared at his screen, trying to process exactly what Seven was saying. He was still in shock for sure, but adding Seven’s time travel concoction was making it hard for anything to make sense.

Jumin Han: I don’t think I fully understand, but if we don’t find a way to help MC this will happen again, yes?

707: yup

Jumin Han: Once they are able to leave the hospital, could you please talk to MC too, Seven? I feel like having more than one person on their side may makes things easier. Especially during a time like this.

707: Yeah, no worries Catman

707: I’ll do what I can

707: Hopefully it works out

Jumin frowned. It felt as if Seven  was trying to brush him off, as if Seven didn’t really care about the situation. Hopefully Seven would follow through with his word.

For now, Jumin needed to pull himself together for MC.

* * *

Jumin didn't know how long he had been at the hospital, but when he was starting to consider just walking into MC’s room, a nurse came by to bring him to see his partner. When he walked into the room, MC quickly glanced at Jumin before looking away in shame. Jumin felt his stomach flip - he knew that MC was ashamed of what they had done.

“MC, how are you doing?” He asked them softly as he went to sit by their side.

“Fine… Wasn’t expecting to be alive though,” Their voice was soft as they spoke. “Did you save me, Jumin?”

Jumin noticed their hands were balled up and he swallowed. “I did.”

MC’s glowered,their voice raising as they snapped, “I don't want to be here!”

Jumin flinched, putting a hand up to them. in a motion of trying to calm them down. “MC, I am just trying to help you. I don’t want you to suffer like this, and even worse yet, suffer alone.”

Looking away angrily, MC shrugged. “Fine.”

“MC…”

“Look, Jumin, I don’t care. I’m not going to get better by talking to some asshole with a degree in psychology.”

Jumin looked down at his hands. What was he supposed to do?

The silence seemed to drag on and on, before MC cleared their throat, shifting uncomfortably.

“I-I’m sorry, Jumin… I know that you’ve been trying to help me… It’s just been hard, trying to manage everything.”

Jumin reached out and took MC’s hand in his, giving them a reassuring squeeze. MC took a sharp intake of breath, and continued.

“I’ll… try, okay Jumin? I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

With that said, MC reached over and gave Jumin a hug. He froze, surprised ar at sudden change of mind that MC had. Jumin quickly returned the hug, rubbing his lovers back gently.

“I’ll do whatever I can to help you, MC. I know that everyone else in the R.F.A. will, too.”

MC squeezed him tighter, resting their head on his shoulder. Jumin continued to massage their back, silently thankful for this conversation, despite the circumstances. After they rested some more, Jumin would talk to MC about other ways that may help them - and their attempt, but only if they were comfortable with it. There was no use forcing a conversation that would help neither party involved.

For now, Jumin would let MC recover.

He hoped that this wouldn’t happen again.

* * *

Bzzt!

Jumin glanced up from the paperwork he was reading. His phone was on silent, and the only contact that he had to receive notifications from was MC. It had been several weeks since the incident, yet Jumin was still on high alert.

He put the paper down, and reached for his phone, his blanching immediately when he saw the text.

“I’m sorry Jumin. Thank you for everything. I love you.”

Papers flew everywhere as he shot up, sprinting out of his office, nearly smacking Jaehee in the face with the door.

“J-Jumin! What’s the matter!?”

“I need a car _now_. MC is in trouble.”

Immediately Jaehee turned around, running to find a driver.

Jumin had _thought_ he had taken precautions. He _though_ t that he had made it next to impossible for MC to find pills or something sharp enough to hurt themselves with inside the house. The only other way that he could think of was drowning, but pulling that off would require a lot of preparation…

Unless…

Jumin broke into a run, fearing that he knew exactly what he was coming home to.

* * *

Hands trembling, Jumin forced his keys into the doorknob and threw open the door. It was silent, minus the pounding in his head.

“MC!?”

He quickly started scanning the house, throwing open door after door. If he had been any more careless, he would have missed the open window in their bedroom. He did a quick 360 as soon as it registered with what he had just saw.

They jumped.

_Oh no no no no no no…_

He moved towards the window slowly, his hands trembling as he gripped the house keys, hard enough to break the skin. Whatever he was about to see, he wasn’t prepared for.

_God why can’t the paramedics hurry up I am about to see a dead body and it’s going to be MC and I -_

Jumin leaned over the window sill, and his legs gave underneath him.

Stories below him, MC was laying in the alleyway, in a puddle of their own blood.

He had failed them.

He thought the therapy was helping.

_He thought that he had been helping._

Jumin sat there quietly, shock settling in. The wailing of sirens seemed to appear from the distance, but remained there, as almost everything was being washed out by the ringing in his ears. It was as if he was on autopilot - the paramedics and police came, asking questions and overly concerning themselves with his well-being.

MC was gone.

That’s all that mattered to Jumin.

After what seemed like hours, and an argument around whether or not Jumin should be taken to the hospital, everything went quiet, and the ringing died down. Jumin forced himself to his bed, ignoring the buzzing from his phone as he flopped onto the bed, exhausted.

Next to him, Elizabeth the 3rd was curled around MC’s pajamas. He tiredly stroked her fur, staring sadly at the cat.

“I’m sorry…” Jumin whispered. He remained like this, his mind empty, relying on muscle memory to keep petting Elizabeth as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Jumin groaned, groggily lifting his head from the pillow. His whole body ached, like he had taken a hard fall the day before.

A fall?

Wait.

He looked around slowly, as his head was throbbing. Where was MC? Hadn’t they been here yesterday?

Yesterday…

Jumin struggled to get out of his bed - it looked as if he had spent the night thrashing about - and grabbed his phone, squinting at the R.F.A. chat.

He swear MC had jumped to their death yesterday,

He remembered the blood, the body, the panic…

707: lolololol good one mc

MC: lolololol

Yoosung★: You both are mean >:(

The phone slipped from Jumin’s hands, confusion overcoming him. MC was supposed to be dead, yet there they were, joking with Seven in the chat room, as if nothing had happened.

How was this possible?

_“Wait,”_ Jumin thought, his stare freezing on his phone, the chat room still open. _“Hadn’t Seven mentioned something like this? A… A timeloop?”_

No, he had to be imagining things. Maybe he was in shock, or still dreaming.

Maybe nothing had actually happened, and he had been having some outrageously long nightmare.

Isn’t that exactly what Seven had said that he thought it was?

Jumin reached for his phone, and opened up a private chat with Seven.

Jumin Han: Seven.

Jumin Han: Something's not right.

Jumin Han: MC’s supposed to be dead.

A few minutes passed before Seven replied.

707: So, you remember too, huh?

707: Welcome to the nightmare, buddy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost done! :D


End file.
